


Of Apples and Sass

by twerkinshield



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, and Derek would hate mac technology I can just feel it, because Stiles is the perfect tech dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twerkinshield/pseuds/twerkinshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Otherwise known as five times Derek fucks up his Mac (and his Mac fucks him) and the one time things work out for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So I was inspired by my not-so-happy trip to our local Apple store due to a laptop malfunction where a lovely attractive beardy fellow was all sassy and helpful and I thought to myself “I would greatly like to see Stiles behind this desk with glasses and his lovely hands and his sass” and thus this was born. Also I have the greatest love for Writer!Derek so yes, this thirst is strong with this fic. P.s. I was too lazy to think up cool names for Laura’s twins so I named them after my twin cousins.

Derek has put off upgrading his laptop for so long that when he goes to the computer store to get a newer version he is kindly, if unhelpfully, informed by the beleaguered employee that that model was discontinued a long time ago. So he sighs the sigh of a person who has the entire world out to get them, and asks what the newest tech fad is. The employee proceeds to spend nearly thirty minutes grilling him about his specific needs and requirements for what he wants in a computer and then cheerfully leads Derek to the new section filled with Macbook Pro computers. Derek grudgingly admits that the Macbooks look pretty badass and when the worker gives him a demonstration Derek practially drools at the smooth scrolling features, the easy-to-find documents, and the automatic safety backup system nearly makes him cream himself. No more lost documents or manual backups no sir-ee-bob! Derek leaves the store with his shiny brand spanking new Macbook Pro and a significantly lighter wallet.

 

Of course when he gets home he realizes that he doesn’t know how to transfer over his old documents because it’s an entirely different server than what he’s used to. So after an hour of dicking around with the system and getting increasingly enraged he decides to just suck it up and go to the Apple store in the mall. Laura laughs her ass off at his pissed off scrunchy face and tells him to see if any of the technicians are hot. He packs everything into his messenger bag and flips her off on his way out.

 

Derek is not ashamed to admit (okay maybe a little ashamed) that he stands outside the Apple store staring at the intimidating logo, the shiny surfaces, and the terrifyingly in-your-face staff for nearly fifteen minutes before gathering his courage and walking in. He’s almost immediately accosted by a gorgeous blonde woman with dark red lipstick who introduces herself as Erica and asks if he has an appointment or a general question. Derek, wildly uncomfortable, manages to blurt out “general question… I think” with minimal fuss and Erica digs her manicured nails into his arm to drag him to the long bar-like area at the back of the store.

 

“Okay Derek this is Stiles, he’s one of our techies and he’ll help you with you problem!”

Just as Derek is pondering what exactly a ‘Stiles’ is, he sees Erica gesture to a gorgeously intense young man sitting behind the counter. Thick black RayBans perch on a delicately sloped nose while a dark purple beanie tries to cover the wild shock of hair sticking up near his forehead. Derek knows he’s got a problem when Stiles’ amber eyes glance up from his Ipad to meet his own. He looks friendly enough, Derek thinks, until Stiles smiles sarcastically at Erica and proceeds to ignore Derek.

 

“Darling does he have an appointment?”

“Well no but he just has a general question.”  
“Does it look like I run a charity here? No appointment, no wisdom from Stiles.”

“Fine.” Erica snatches Stiles’ Ipad out of his hands and delicately books Derek into the current time slot. “Problem solved Batman!”

“… You’re a nasty person and I hope you get hit by a bus.”

“Love you too babe!”

Stiles scowls, and they both watch Erica flounce off to snare another unsuspecting customer into her clutches.

“Okay!” Stiles swivels his chair around, his red nametag necklace swinging wildly. “So what exactly is this ‘general question’ of yours Derek?”

“… Did you just do verbal air quotes.”

“Did you just ask a question without actually asking a question?”

“Your customer service skills are sorely lacking.”

Stiles blinks, and then throws his head back and laughs like a loon. Derek is momentarily distracted by the delicate constellation of moles dotting Stiles’ long neck, but is brought back by Stiles making grabby hands for Derek’s computer.

“Okay seriously dude we only have fifteen minutes per session and I had some lady drop off her computer for maintenance earlier and it turns out she had like fifty million viruses from watching too much porn without using virus protection software so I still have to de-toxify her laptop sometime before closing tonight.”

“… ooooookay.” Derek’s eyes widen. “Well I just need to know how to transfer over all the files from my old computer. I don’t have the right software for it and I wouldn’t know how to transfer anything even if I did have it.”

“Oh well that’s easy enough,” Stiles opens Derek’s new laptop. “What model was your old computer?”

Derek pulls out his old laptop and plunks it down on the counter top. Stiles’ eyebrows raise dramatically at the beat-up piece of junk currently occupying his desk space.   
“Duuuuude! What even is this thing?” Stiles gingerly picks up the old machine, turning it this way and that in an effort to see what model it is. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a laptop _this_ old!”

Derek frowns, his laptop can’t be _that_ old can it? It _was_ a gift from his parents back when he started university but still, it’s been running smoothly like clockwork for years and it’s never given him any trouble until recently when even full system reboots couldn’t make it work properly. In the end, Stiles has to call out his boss to help identify the ancient artifact. Bobby Finstock, alternately called Coach and occasionally Cupcake, takes one look at the beat-up laptop and immediately launches into an inspiring speech about how he hasn’t seen one of these since _he_ was in university and wow could he buy it off Derek because this would make a great trophy amongst his collection. Derek briefly considers punching them but thinks better of it considering they have his technology hostage at the moment.

 

After what seems like an eternity; Derek totters unsteadily out of the Apple store clutching his newly updated Macbook and his precious old laptop while listening to the increasingly shrill soliloquy about the beauty of antiquated technology. Derek looks back in time to see Stiles flailing his arms and outlining all the flaws of older tech while Coach looks mildly apoplectic at the mere suggestion.  

When he gets back to the house he’s greeted by the sight of Laura smirking at him while she feeds Emma, one of her three-year-old twins.

“So, any hot techies there baby bro?”

Derek thinks of RayBans, of moles, and warm whiskey coloured eyes, and feels his cheeks flush a very fetching shade of scarlet. Laura just cackles and continues to feed her daughter.


	2. The Spill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of spills, juice, and speeches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love techonologically challenged Derek. It brings so much joy to my life.

A week after acquiring his new laptop Derek finds his luck taking yet another nosedive.  He loves his nieces, he really does, but sometimes it’s a test of all his patience when he leaves the kitchen for not even five minutes and Emma and Audra manage to spill their juice on his MacBook. After Derek uses his phone to book an appointment on the Apple website, he mops up the mess and leaves the kids in the Cora’s tender care. Derek once again packs up all his stuff into his trusty messenger bag and heads out for the Apple store.

Derek makes it maybe two steps into the Apple store before he nearly gets bowled over by an overly enthusiastic Erica.

“And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company Derek?” Erica purrs.

“This time I have an appointment.”

“Well that’s a good thing, maybe now Stiles won’t be as bitchy as last time.” She leads him through the crowd, deftly sidestepping the throngs of curious customers. “Is it your hardrive again?”

Derek sighs, “No, my nieces spilled juice on it.”

Erica winces sympathetically, “If I had a quarter for every time someone came in here because of spills then I would be rich enough to own this place. Come on, Stiles is just finishing up with his last appointment so he’ll be with you in a minute!”

She’s gone in a whirlwind of blonde curls and fragrant perfume before Derek can even thank her. Derek turns around to search out Stiles’ familiar face behind the desk. The girl in front of him is fiddling around with the inner workings of an older Mac desktop computer, her dark brown curls falling gently to frame her face and warm cocoa coloured eyes remain fixed on the small parts. Her nametag (Hi my name is Allison) strikes a vaguely familiar chord, but he can’t for the life of him think of why that is. She glances up from her work to meet his eyes and smiles gently.

“I honestly don’t know how some people manage to mangle their software like this,” says Allison.

Derek shrugs sympathetically, “Well I speak on behalf of all the technologically challenged when I say that I have no idea either. Most days it’s a miracle that I can even turn the damn thing on without it fizzing out on me.”

“You don’t like Mac computers?”

“No, I don’t understand _any_ computers.”

A familiar voice interrupts with, “Well that’s because you should just sit back and let us masters work our magic!” Sure enough, Stiles’ spectacled face makes an appearance right across from Derek, the only different being the almost offensively hot pink beanie gracing his head today.

“Well Derek! What’s the sitch? Couldn’t keep away from my endless charms and devious wit could’ya?”

“Suuuure,” Derek drags the syllable out, amused with Stiles’ antics. “Yeah let’s go with that.”

Allison giggles at the dramatic look of mock offense on Stiles’ face and pushes the employee Ipad towards him.

“Yeah yeah smartass, you’re so clever ha ha ha so funny wow.” Derek gingerly places his MacBook onto the bar. “Well it doesn’t seem like anything is wrong… what happened?” Stiles immediately picks up the computer and proceeds to skim his eyes along the frame.

“Well I was babysitting my nieces and they managed to spill juice on the keyboard during the two minutes I’d left the room.”

Of course because Stiles is a weirdo and everything he does surprises Derek, he picks up the laptop and starts to sniff it. Even Allison looks up from her work to stare at Stiles, her eyebrows raised at his general weirdness.

“Stiles are you okay?” Allison asks tentatively. “Do you need to go take a nap?”

Completely undeterred, Stiles continues to smell the laptop until his eyes pop open in surprise. And then he laughs so loudly that several customers in the immediate vicinity start in shock.

“Oh my _god_! Of all the juices to be spilled it had to be _apple_ juice!” he throws his head back, cackling.

Allison scrunches up her face, “I don’t understand why apple juice is such a big de-“. She pauses, and then smiles as understanding floods her face. “Wow Stiles, you’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel for half decent puns now aren’t you? I think you’ve actually just regressed to Scott’s level of puns.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrow in confusion before understanding comes to him. He snorts unattractively and then ducks his head down to hide the flush on his cheeks. This kind of shitty immature humour shouldn’t be so _attractive_ dammit! He blames Laura entirely for this entire debacle. Derek glances up in time to see the wide grin splitting Stiles’ face, the delicate pink flush dusting his cheekbones, and those warm amber eyes dancing with mirth.

“No worries dude, just give me like ten minutes and I can have your baby running as smoothly as ever.” Stiles packs up Derek’s laptop and the charger chord. “You can go walk around for a bit if you want and pick her up later?”

“Nah I’ll just wait here. Ten minutes?”

“Yep!”

Derek watches Stiles moonwalk his way into the back section of the store, a dopey smile sitting on his face. Of course when he looks around again he sees Allison smirking knowingly at him, her pink lips pulling up in amusement. Derek scowls at her. Allison’s smirk only grows, and that’s when it hits Derek about how he knows her.

“You’re Scott Mccall’s girlfriend aren’t you?”

“Yep. How did you know?”

“We had to call him a few weeks back so he could come get this family of foxes out from under our porch. It took him an hour to get them all out and nearly ended up getting his face clawed off.” Derek shakes his head, remembering the boy with the floppy hair and sunny smile. “I also remember him waxing poetic about his girlfriend the _entire time_ he was there.”

Allison’s cheeks flush pink in pleasure as she laughs. “Sorry about that, he’s surprisingly chatty about certain things. You should hear him going on about lacrosse.”

“Oh dear god.” Memories of high school flood back to Derek.

“Exactly.”

Their friendly banter is interrupted by Coach bursting out of the backroom and, when he spots Derek, proceeds to launch into a very incoherent (yet persuasive) argument as to why Derek should donate his old computer to him. Although most of Coach’s arguments center on “because of reasons”, Derek finds it amusing to toy with him and wind him up.

Stiles returns to the sight of Coach standing on the bar area delivering an impressive speech about the beauty of antiquated computers while Derek and Allison steadily turn purple from trying not to laugh.

“Yeah alright big guy let’s give the other customers a rest,” he plunks Derek’s computer down on the desk. “We’re supposed to sell _new_ Macs here, not old pieces of junk from glory days of the 80’s.” Stiles winks at Derek, who has to cover his face to hide the laughter.

Stiles pulls out his Ipad to get Derek to sign the insurance plan while Coach splutters indignantly in the background. Once he finished signing the pad Derek looks up, right into Stiles amber eyes. And that’s when Derek realizes.

 _Oh shit_.


	3. The Slippery Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of lube, nefarious ex-boyfriends, and awkward situations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Sarah (yellowcityheart) and Emily (wolfbeater) for this entirely as they are my muses of smut. And there are two kinds of people in the world: those who love Bottom!Derek and liars.

The house is quiet this weekend, Laura and Dave having taken the twins out for a walk in the park and Cora is out on a date, and Derek uses the time accordingly. Finally finished half the manuscript for his next book, Derek decides to celebrate by pulling out all the stops for some much needed “me” time. Derek’s MacBook lies at the foot of his bed, the screen fully dedicated to two slender boys blowing each other, while he sprawls chest down with his ass up in the air, three lubed fingers buried deep in himself. Derek can feel his impending orgasm building up; the tendrils of liquid heat sliding down his spine to pool in his groin. He uses his free hand to tug harshly at his cock, already gorgeously flushed and drooling precome. The boys on the screen have switched positions, the blond one being bent over and fucked from behind by the brunet (who totally doesn’t look like Stiles nope not at all okay maybe a little), and Derek moans wantonly. The pressure in his groin begins to build quickly, his hand flying over his cock while the other hand pumps into his ass desperately. All it takes is one particularly hard tug to his cock and Derek is coming, his come striping the bed sheets beneath him while his hole twitches erratically.

But because all good things must come to an end, and in Derek’s case with a viciously balancing dose of the bad, he has a momentary lapse of memory about how his body usually reacts to powerful orgasms. As soon as Derek comes, his muscles spasm dramatically rather than locking up, and so his laptop gets swiftly pushed off the bed and onto the floor by an erratic shoulder spasm. Derek doesn’t even register the fate of his precious laptop until he comes down from his post-orgasmic high, only to see the computer sputter to it’s death in front of him. He drops his forehead onto the comforter and sighs deeply.

The next day he books another appointment at Apple, packs up his laptop, and heads out. This time when he gets there Erica is waiting for him at the entrance, arms crossed and a smirk gracing her red painted lips.

“Derek, honey if I didn’t know better I’d say you were deliberately sabotaging your laptop _just_ to come see us more often.” Erica’s lips purse amusedly.

“Trust me, I do enough damage to my computer unintentionally.” Derek rubs a hand over his face tiredly. “If I deliberately damaged it I’d probably end up blowing up my house.”

Erica laughs as she leads him to Stiles. Always to Stiles.

“Well maybe you can help him out of a sticky situation,” Erica stops them a few feet from the counter, and jerks her thumb in Stiles direction. “His ex is being a creepy perv, maybe you could put those big biceps to use and scare Matt out of here. He’s skeeving out all our good customers.”

Derek looks up at Stiles and the man leaning against the counter across from him. Matt’s shaggy brown hair falls artfully around his forehead, and Stiles looks less than impressed with the artsy jacket and fancy camera hanging off of Matt’s arm. Stiles’ glasses fall below the unimpressed scrunch of his nose and his lack of beanie and crazy hair make him look even more frazzled than usual. Derek feels his blood boil, not at the fact that Matt is there, but at the supremely uncomfortable look on Stiles’ face. So, gathering his courage, Derek strides smoothly up to the counter and slides into the booth opposite of Stiles, calmly ignoring Matt the entire time.

“Hey Stiles,” Derek leans forward on his elbows and grins. “Nice hair. Did a tornado style it for you?”

Stiles jumps at Derek’s sudden arrival. “Dude we need to put a bell on you or something, I swear you’re like half ninja half bodybuilder.”

Matt scowls, clearly unimpressed with being put to the side. “So what do you say babe? You and me, tonight, our usual booth at the diner?”

Stiles’ hands clench around his Ipad until his knuckles turn white, “ Yeah I’ll let you know if I get any sudden cravings for a creepy boyfriend and a shitty date. Until then, vamoose!”

Matt’s jaw clenches at the clear dismissal, anger written in every line of his face. His hands clench briefly, as if getting ready to reach out, but Derek simply draws himself up to his full height and turns his entire body to face Matt. Scowls and intimidation tactics usually work for him. Matt freezes at the sudden movement, his eyes going wide and darting between Derek and Stiles. He slams his hand down on the counter and pushes himself off his stool, and makes a swift exit out of the store.

“Wow,” Stiles gapes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move so quickly before…”

Derek allows himself a small victory smirk, and when he looks over to where Erica is standing, he watches her give him two thumbs up and a congratulatory wink.

“He didn’t seem too tough. Too much of a hipster to get all his fancy clothes dirty.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” Stiles’ enthusiasm returns full force, and he skims his Ipad screen quickly. “So, if one is an incident, and two is a coincidence, then what is three?”

Derek blanches, “What.”

“My dad is the sheriff, it’s what he always says whenever there’s some perp out there who’s totally got an M.O. So, this is your third time in here in less than two weeks.” Derek notices the pink flush steadily creeping up Stiles’ neck. “So I was wondering if you actually _are_ that clumsy or if you’ve got some kinda evil hidden agenda.”

Derek panics. He knows he can’t lie for shit so he decides to go with a half-truth.

“I kinda had this one premeditated…” The tips of Derek’s ears flush scarlet when he remembers the way the brunet boy from the porn video thrusted into his partner.

“But more because I forgot my surroundings?”

Stiles clearly looks intrigued, and seems like he’s barely restraining himself from asking the questions he wants to ask.

“Well alright Mr. Tall Dark and Mysterious, have it your way. It seems like the connector circuit was dislodged when it fell so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue to pop it back into place. Gimme five minutes Sourpuss!” And Stiles cheerfully flounces off into the backroom once more.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Stiles emerges from the depths of the backroom with wires tangling around his feet. Cursing, he pulls up his stool across from Derek and gracefully flails his way out of the tangle of computer chords while Derek struggles to hide his smile.

“Yeah yeah laugh it up scruff ball. Here’s your precious laptop.” Stiles hands it over, looking flushed and mildly uncomfortable. Like he’s about two seconds away from spewing out uncontrollable word vomit. “So I was just curious… is there any particular reason why there was an abundance of KY jelly on the bottom half of the keyboard?”

Derek chokes on nothing and nearly drops his laptop again. 


	4. The Awkward Discover(ies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of roommates, threesomes, and gay porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sarah and Emily wanted Isaac rooming with Derek after last week's episode so this is a giant fuck-you to last week.

A month after the Juice Fiasco, the Lube Situation, and the general mayhem of the Hale household, Derek decides to take the high road and move out to room with someone. The roommate part was easy enough, and by putting an ad in the local paper for a quiet, mature, and clean person, Derek found Isaac. Isaac is a giant curly haired sweetheart, but he looks like the kind of person you’d find fighting in a cage match. Their first meeting starts with Derek sizing Isaac up, wondering if he’d get any trouble from him, and Isaac proceeding to squeak in fear and start shaking from Derek’s glare. As it turns out, Isaac is finishing his last stretch of grad school and needs a place to stay that’s halfway between work and the university. He’s incredibly organized, cleans up after himself, and as an added bonus he can cook the most deliciously gourmet food to ever grace this side of Beacon Hills. Derek, understandably, gets a little spoiled from all the tasty treats and has to up the number of visits to the local gym so he can burn off the extra calories.

The only thing that makes Derek very curious about Isaac is the complete lack of information about his family or any information about other personal relationships. Derek makes it clear very early on that he’s into men _and_ women so as to not alarm Isaac, however it’s all a moot point when Isaac simply smiles and says, “me too”. Derek sees no need to discuss the matter further and they both carry on about their business with little fuss. Although that’s not to say that things don’t occasionally get slightly awkward due to the paper-thin walls in the apartment. But what are a few awkwardly eavesdropped orgasms between roommates?

Derek has just finished an intense workout at the gym, courtesy of the deliciously decadent and entirely homemade black forest cake from the night before, when he walks into the seemingly empty apartment. He throws his keys into the bowl on the coffee table and wanders into the kitchen to throw his dirty clothes into the laundry hamper. Derek is just taking a long pull from the orange juice container when he hears a very loud and distinctive _thump_ from the other end of the apartment. Freezing, he listens closely for any familiar sounds of Isaac. Instead, what he hears is the clinking and clanking of metal moving together along with heavy breathing. Thinking about the possibility of a burglar, Derek grabs the broom from the front hall closet and moves stealthily towards the bedroom. He slowly brings his hand towards the doorknob, and flings it open… only to see Isaac sprawled on the bed in between Scott Mccall and Allison Argent. All of them are naked, with Isaac’s handcuffs jingling against the metal headboard. The three of them start yelling and flailing dramatically while Derek screams (a very manly scream) and flings his hands up to cover his eyes. Of course he completely forgets he’s holding the broom, so after braining himself on the wooden handle, he turns around to make a speedy exit only to slam his face into the doorframe. His nose bleeding, his forehead bruised, and his hand throbbing, Derek all but runs out of the apartment after grabbing his laptop bag, his wallet, and his car keys.

Derek spends a good ten minutes sitting in the Camaro yelling and swearing while repeatedly hitting the steering wheel. The sweet little old lady from the floor beneath them gives him a worried look as she passes by. Once he’s thoroughly exhausted himself from his freak-out, Derek uses the leftover water from his sports bag and some Kleenex to clean the blood off his face. He contemplates the huge purple bruise on his forehead before shrugging, there’s only so much he can do. He sends off a garbled text apologizing to Isaac and heads on over to Laura’s place to spend the night. Cora opens the front door, takes one look at her big brother, and bursts out laughing. She waves him inside, still laughing, and gets him some juice. She’s still laughing twenty minutes later after Derek’s told her the entire tale from start to finish. The unsympathetic little shit.

And of course, because his luck is the absolute worst, Derek’s laptop putzes out on him that night as he’s working on the third draft of his latest book. He tries turning it off and on, he tries rebooting it, and he even tries his hand at begging, but nothing works. Resigned at the cruelty of his fate; Derek makes yet another appointment at the Apple store he’s come to know so well, and counts himself lucky that he at least gets to see Stiles again.

The next morning sees Derek standing outside of the Apple store entrance with his coffee, waiting for the store to open to the general public. A familiar face appears behind the sliding glass folds and sure enough, Stiles’ bespectacled face pops out from between the doors. Today’s beanie is sky blue, and totally compliments Stiles’ eyes. Derek has enough time to think, “ _fuck_ ” before Stiles is speaking to him.

“Hey Derek!” Stiles beams happily. “Wow you look like death warmed over!”

“Thanks?” Derek flushes, and pulls the hood of his sweatshirt further over his face. “You would never even believe the story.”  
Stiles grins, a mildly terrifying expression gracing his face, “Try me.”

So Derek dutifully follows him into the store, recounting his entire adventure with the threesome discovery and the ensuing chaos of his less-than majestic exit. He leaves out the identity of his roommate and his, um, _partners_ , and scowls into his coffee when Stiles just giggles at him.

“Oh man! That is absolutely _priceless_!” Stiles sighs, and wipes the tears from his eyes. “You should sell that shit to some sitcom, I’m sure they’d love the comedic gold.”  
“Your sympathy is so touching,” Derek smiles sarcastically. “I think this calls for a hug.”

Stiles glances up, his eyes wide and hopeful. “Awwww you’re gradually learning to express all the emotions of the rainbow. I’m so proud!” Stiles dramatically wipes a fake tear from his eye.

Derek smiles at Stiles’ antics, the first true smile in a long time.

“So have you tried turning it off and on again?”

Moment absolutely fucking ruined.

“Stiles I swear to God- ”

Stiles looks pensively at the laptop, “Or maybe it’s an I-D-10-T issue.”

Derek blanches, “A what.”

Stiles peeks up at him shyly from under his glasses and sky blue beanie before breaking into the cutest giggles that Derek had ever seen. Oh shush he’s totally manly yes he is.

“So can his brilliant majesty of the computers fix this thing?” Quips Derek.

“Excuse you Sourpuss, what kind of plebian do you take me for?” Stiles puts his hand over his heart in mock outrage. “Lemme just turn it on and run a quick diagnostics first…” he trails off, clearly distracted.

Derek sits at the computer bar contentedly nursing his coffee, listening to the steady clickety-clacking of Stiles fingers on the keyboard. He’s brought out of his reverie when Stiles abruptly stops typing and proceeds to turn a brilliant shade of scarlet.

“Um… so I found your problem…” Stiles coughs awkwardly. “So there was this virus that got stuck in your cookies from a… um… less than modest website.”

“What do you mean?” Derek has a very bad feeling about this.

“Does the website ‘hungrytwinks’ mean anything to you?” Stiles’ moles are standing out from the red of his cheeks.

Derek can feel the blush spread quickly up from his neck to his cheeks, and then to the very tips of his ears. He thinks back to the Lube Situation and the brunet twink bending the other young man over the side of the couch, and the brunet’s rather _uncanny_ likeness to the man standing in front of him.

“I just- I don’t know how- My roommate- I-“ Derek sputters incoherently.

“Hey no judgment from over here dude!” Stiles waves his hands nervously. “I mean it’s an excellent choice… I uh- frequent the site myself occasionally.” He runs a nervous hand over the back of his neck.

“Good. I mean- SHIT” Derek drops his face into his hands, absolutely mortified and wishing the earth would open up and swallow him. “I was already having a shitty day yesterday and then I walked in on my roommate having a crazy threesome with Allison and Scott and I just-“

“Wait.” Stiles blinks up at Derek. “You live with _Isaac_? Isaac Lahey?”

“…Yes?”

“Oh my _god_ you too!” This time Derek blinks. “You _have_ to give me blackmail material to use on them, because I swear to god if I walk in on them fucking in mine and Scott’s apartment again I’m going to cut a bitch.”

“… There were handcuffs.”

“Oh my _god_.”

“And Isaac was wearing a gag.”

“JESUS CHRIST.”

“Sooooo… yeah.”

“Okay seriously man, you _have_ to give me your number so you can text me all the sordid details of their affairs. That way we can keep in confidence and keep them relatively under control.” Stiles whips out his cellphone and looks up at Derek expectantly.

Derek feels his eyebrows raise, wondering at the sudden and wildly unexpected turn of his luck. He can’t see an immediate downside, so he rattles off his number while watching Stiles’ wet pink tongue dance over his lower lip in concentration. He knows he’s lost when Stiles’ warm amber eyes slide up to meet his, and crinkle around the edges when he grins at Derek.

“Well Robin it appears we have a partnership,” growls Stiles in his best Batman voice.

“Hey who said _you_ were Batman Mr. Scrawny Guardian of the Darkness?”

“Rude!”


	5. The Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of cyber space attacks, shitty Word documents, and epic tantrums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that I have nothing against Microsoft Word... It's just the program I understand best. Also I know from personal experience that the Time Machine program on Macs is an absolute godsend so god bless.

Derek had been nearly finished the last quarter of his latest book when Microsoft Word helpfully informed him of the ‘critical’ software update. So, like the dutiful MacBook owner he is, Derek clicked on the green button so the update could proceed. He waited patiently, but then decided to go get a drink while the update finished installing. He’d opened the fridge and the first thing he saw at eye level was a big, yellow container of apple juice and Derek distinctly remembers feeling the familiar sense of foreboding and the cold trickle of dread slide slowly down his spine. Grabbing the carton, Derek made his way slowly back to the computer, apprehensive of what he might find.

What he sees is the, thankfully normal, reboot screen of his MacBook. Grinning to himself, Derek plunks his butt down into the plush cushion of the beanbag chair in his room to wait for the computer to come back to him. He takes a swig of the apple juice while listening to Isaac puttering around the kitchen making dinner to take so Scott and Allison can join him for a picnic. As an apology for the Threesome Disaster the week before, Isaac promised the choicest bits of the meal to set aside for Derek’s supper tonight. Beyond Isaac sending an apology text of his own they really try to actively avoid talking about what happened at all costs. Although the one true bonus of the situation was the acquisition of Stiles’ number so every cloud really does have a silver lining. He and Derek have been texting back and forth all week, well, Derek has been replying to Stiles’ incredibly random and eccentric texts while smiling like a loon to himself. He gets the occasional political topic, a mountain-load of puns, and endless comparisons of his face to that of the infamous Grumpy Cat. Laura sees that particular text and bursts into peals of delighted laughter, much to Derek’s chagrin. Needless to say, he and Stiles have been getting much closer to one another, but no closer to Derek actually growing a pair and asking Stiles out. Stiles uses his newly acquired blackmail material to torment Allison at work, and he especially loves watching Scott and Isaac squirm uncomfortably whenever they come to visit her there. The picture of Scott and Isaac’s matched expressions of discomfort Stiles sends to Derek makes him giggle like a preschool girl with a new piece of schoolyard gossip. A small pinging sound brings Derek out of his reverie.

Derek glances calmly down at his computer screen and boots up Microsoft Word to continue working on his book. Word opens up with no fuss, but when Derek goes to the drop-down menu to open his draft, he finds all his recent works missing. Gone. Completely AWOL. Derek feels the blood drain from his face as he calmly goes into his documents folder to check for the draft. Nada. Nothing. Zip.

Derek will later look back upon his reaction with a sense of mild amusement and supreme embarrassment, but considering the gravity of the situation he does what any self-respecting author would do in his situation: he freaks the fuck out. After letting out a screech worthy of any banshee, he proceeds to shove his face into the nearest pillow and scream into it. He ends up sprawled out like a starfish on his bedroom floor as Isaac bursts into the room, phone out and clearly expecting a personal emergency. What he finds it Derek flailing without absolutely a shred of dignity, swearing, and sobbing grossly into the depths of his beanbag chair.  

“Derek… Are you okay?”

“Mmfuckndrafsgone”

“What?”

“Drafsgunn”

“You’ll have to speak up. I don’t speak beanbag.”

Derek lifts his head up from the beanbag only far enough to shout, “MY FINAL FUCKING DRAFT FOR MY NOVEL IS GONE! ABSOLUTELY GONE! DISAPPEARED INTO THE FAR REACHES OF SPACE, LOST TO THE SANDS OF TIME, EATEN BY CYBERSPACE! WHAT PART OF THIS DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?” Derek’s rant loses its potency when his voice breaks. Isaac just stares at him for a moment longer, grabs the afghan from the bed and covers Derek with it, and sits down to hold Derek as he breaks down on the floor like a small, emotionally disturbed child.

This time it’s Isaac who calls Stiles, who sounds chipper enough but drops silent when he hears Derek’s muffled sobs in the background, and then he’s completely frantic.

“ISAAC IS HE OKAY?”

“Relatively speaking…”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS RELATIVE ABOUT IT?”

“Well what I got out of him was that he was almost done the final draft for the last part of his book but the Microsoft update… ate it?” Isaac’s voice is almost at a squeak from stress.

“Jesus fucking Christ on a tricycle. It’s that motherfucking Microsoft update that’s been going around and fucking up everyone’s software.” Holy shit Stiles is _pissed_. “About ninety percent of my clients this past week have come in because Microsoft decided to be a great big bag of dicks and release faulty software before all the bugs were worked out. FUCK!” Over the sounds of Derek’s mental breakdown Isaac can hear Stiles typing away frantically at what seems to be his office desktop, rather than his customary Apple bar Ipad.

“Can you fix it?” Isaac asks, frantically pacing the room. “He’s _really_ freaking out here Stiles, and I don’t know what to do!”

“Bring him in to the store in twenty minutes and I’ll whip his Word programming into shape so fast it won’t even have time to think up a safe word.”

“… Okay we’ll be there!” Isaac hangs up and proceeds to shove Derek’s computer, chords, and charger into his messenger bag in a big jumble. He forces Derek into a semi-decent sweater and, lamenting the fact that Derek looks like he hasn’t slept or showered in weeks, bundles him into the passenger seat of the Camaro. It’s a testament to just how much distress Derek is in, because he doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the fact that Isaac has commandeered his precious car.

They get to the Apple store just in time to see Erica pulling the doors closed for the day, but then she sees Isaac pulling along a nearly catatonic Derek who looks like a deranged hobo and she simply steps aside to let them past.

“Guys over here!” calls Stiles, waving his Ipad.

Isaac all but throws Derek’s laptop onto the counter and then squishes Derek into one of the bar chairs. Stiles spares maybe a second to glance at Derek’s condition and whistles.

“Wow buddy you sure look… interesting today.”

“If by interesting you mean he looks a wildly unbalanced homeless person then yes. Yes he does look interesting. “Erica plops herself down into the chair on Isaac’s other side.

“Shush! He’s already been through enough!” Stiles waves his hand vaguely in Erica’s direction. “Hey Derek, exactly how much of your document did you lose?” asks Stiles, typing away frantically at Derek’s traitorous computer.

Derek takes a deep, calming breath while Isaac rubs between his shoulder blades comfortingly, “Well I just finished a section explaining the political intrigue part so maybe… a hundred and fifty pages or so?”

Stiles looks up in shock, knuckles bone white, and then back at the laptop.

“Son of a bitch.”

“You should’ve heard the scream he let out. I busted into his room because it sounded like someone was about to stab him or something.”

Stiles ends up having to rewrite a section of code for the Microsoft Word program in order to retrieve the lost document pages. Once he finds them, organizes them, and seamlessly incorporates them back into the document, he immediately backs up a copy into the Time Machine feature on Derek’s Mac. He turns the laptop around so it’s facing Derek.

“There,” Stiles runs a hand through his flyaway hair. “Look this through quick and tell me if I’ve missed any pages.”  
Derek carefully glances through the document, looking for the custom markers at the end of where each chapter should be, and feels all the muscles in his body relax from sheer relief. Although no one expects Derek to practically vault himself over the counter to give Stiles a massive hug.

“You are an absolute _genius_!” Derek squeals.

“Stop, stop!” Stiles preens happily. “You have one hour to stop immediately!”

Derek laughs, and proceeds to scoop Stiles up bridal-style to twirl him around the tech area in sheer joy, Stiles squawking awkwardly from his perch in Derek’s arms. Isaac and Erica look at each other and grin, clearly amused with the couples’ antics.  

“Recovery successful!” Stiles crows. “Justice prevails!”

Derek’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, “The Tech Knight rises.”

Stiles whole body freezes, his amber eyes widening comically.  
“Oh my _god_ I totally want that on my business card!”

Erica scoffs, “Honey you don’t have a business card.”  
“Shhhh don’t ruin my dreams!”

Derek hugs his computer close to himself, warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of Stiles, flushed and happy and bantering excitedly with his friends.

_Tech Knight indeed._


	6. +1 Damn You Autocorrect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of deadlines, meet-and-greets, and office sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to take this opportunity to say that I absolutely could not resist adding in the Friends reference with the lamp. The idea of Derek running around with one was too perfect to pass up! I'm so sorry for the terribly cliche'd Batman pickup lines and the shitty and unoriginal pen name for Derek. Also Ms. Blake is a badass and I will fight anyone who says otherwise.
> 
> P.S. I was browsing some food blogs when I wrote this and the three-cheese macaroni came up and I practically started drooling.

Derek can practically _feel_ the satisfaction settling into his bones; the warm slide of contentment down his spine, the way all his muscles relax, and the feeling of absolute bliss that accompanies finishing a particularly grueling piece of writing. Specifically, Derek is finally finished his novel. He stares at the Word document on his screen, his hazel eyes lazily unfocused, and then sends it via email to his editor for one last look. Derek closes the laptop and stands up to stretch, his joints popping and his spine crackling back into alignment.

Derek makes his way to the kitchen to claim the leftover three-cheese macaroni that Isaac perfected earlier that evening, listening as the radio quietly tumbles out a steady stream of jazz from beside their tiny herb garden near the window. The chef in question is sprawled on the floor amongst all his medical books, a slightly alarming textbook on intestinal anatomy taking up residence in his lap with Sex In The City playing softly. Isaac looks up and smiles, seeing Derek put the container in the microwave.

“So I take it the mac’n’cheese was a hit?”

Derek moans around a mouthful of pasta, “Fucking _shit_ yes it is.”

Isaac smiles softly, a delicate shade of pink dusting his cheeks, pleased at the compliment. He goes back to highlighting a diagram of the small intestines, humming softly. Isaac’s phone vibrating off the coffee table interrupts his studying; but he retrieves it from the trashcan and sees a text from Stiles. A rather frantic text, but the good kind. Not the kind of frantic that happened when season two of BBC’s Sherlock ended, but more like the wow-oh-my-god-a-new-Star-Trek-movie-is-coming-out kind of frantic.

Stiles: _DUDE THAT NEW BOOK BY ALPHA PAXTER IS COMING OUT SOON I’M GONNA DIE_

Isaac: _Sounds kinda dramatic don’t you think?_

Stiles: _SHUSH I JUST WALKED BY BARNES AND NOBLE AND THEY WERE ALREADY ADVERTISING FOR IT ALDKFJGHFDJK_

Isaac: _Stiles calm down, I can practically FEEL you having a spazz attack through the phone_

Stiles: _I resent that accusation_

Isaac: _You’re at the mall right now aren’t you_

Stiles: _… yeah why?_

Isaac stealthily peeks up at Derek over the top of his phone, watching his roommate stuff his unshaven face with mac’n’cheese

Isaac: _Good, so you won’t freak out more when I tell you I actually know Paxter on a personal level_

Stiles: _Hah yeah right, you do know that’s a pen name right?_

Isaac: _Obviously, I meant I know his REAL name and also some of his family_

Stiles: _I swear if you’re fucking joking I’m gonna rip your entrails out through your eye sockets_

Isaac: _His editor works downtown at that hipster place above the bowling alley_

Stiles: _Isn’t that the place that Lydia’s mom owns???_

Isaac: _Yep_

Stiles: _HOW DO I NOT KNOW THESE THINGS_

Isaac: _Because you’re a spazz_

Stiles: _DUDE CAN YOU HOOK ME UP WITH HIM? LIKE A MEETING?? 8D_

Isaac glances up at Derek again, this time Derek looks up in time to meet his eyes. Isaac face splits with a wide toothy grin and Derek freezes, a forkful of macaroni halfway to his mouth and his cheeks stuffed with pasta, eyes wide in fear. Isaac decides to torture Stiles a bit before he puts him out of his misery. He quirks a finger at Derek to beckon him over, and Derek cautiously makes his way over, looking ready to bolt the entire time.

Isaac: _Idk… it would totally be a breach of confidentiality if I just gave his name out to anyone I met :/_

Stiles: _You couldn’t even mention me to him?? :(_

Isaac grins, “ _Gotcha”_ he thinks.

“Hey Derek?”

Derek glances down at him warily, “… yes?”

“What would you do if I told you I could set you up with Stiles?”

“I’d say it’s too good to be true and I’d ask who’s putting you up to this.” Says Derek blankly.

“Oh,” Isaac frowns. “Well I guess you’d be sort of correct. Stiles is excited about the advert he saw for your new book.” He waves his phone. “When I told him I knew Paxter in person he asked if I could hook him up with a meeting.”

Derek’s eyes widen in surprise, “He reads my books?” a dopey smile lighting up his face.

“Yep,” Isaac does a mental fist pump; he’s got this one in the bag. “But I was just about to tell him I don’t set Paxter up with random people so-“

“YES,” Derek blurts out. “Tell him we’ll meet- NO! WAIT. FUCK!” He covers his face with his free hand. “We’ve already met so he won’t wanna meet with me but, does he mean like, a _romantic_ hookup? Or an intellectual hookup?” By this point Derek is waving his forkful of mac’n’cheese in the air with every sentence he finishes.

“Well I’m pretty sure it’s intellectual,” Isaac smirks at the droop in Derek’s shoulders. “For Paxter. But for _Derek_ it’s entirely romantic. And also sexual, but that’s a whole other kettle of fish.”

Flustered and flushed, Derek says, “Tell him we’ll meet at my editor’s office whenever he gets off work.”

“Right-o”

Isaac: _Texted him. He says meet up with us at his editor’s office whenever you get off work today._

Stiles: _ASDFGHFGHJKLSKDFJHGHJK ISAAC WHAT EVEN IS THIS. ARE YOU SRS RIGHT NOW???_

Isaac: _As a heart attack. Also don’t wear your fucking beanie, it makes you look like a dweeb._

Stiles: _Fuck u beanies are the epitome of haute couture._

Isaac: _Sure thing Casanova. P.s. Paxter is bi_

Stiles: _Fucking SCORE!!!_

 

Two hours later Derek is clean, no longer resembles a yeti, and is macaroni-free with Isaac at his side in his editor’s office. He’s also high as a fucking kite from the three shots of espresso he had while he was waiting for the hard copy of his draft to be printed. This will not end well. Ms. Blake is calmly sifting through the pages of the draft at her desk, the bright late-afternoon light hitting her hair just right, giving her a soft, warm glow. He loves her in a totally platonic way, not even considering how she absolutely fucking terrifies him. Derek pulls out his phone and snaps a quick picture of Blake at her desk using Instagram, and begins to add different filters to it.

“If you’re using Instagram on me again I’ll skin you.” She says calmly, not even glancing up from her work.

“Yes dear,” says Derek, distracted by the gold versus tan filters.

Isaac leans over to look over Derek’s shoulder, “No, no, no… use the light sepia filter, it’ll go better with her hair.” And then he wanders over to the corkboard on the wall; completely plastered with different character designs and book cover ideas. Above everything is the title “The Tech Knight”; Derek grins to himself just looking at it.

However, all peace times must eventually come to an end. In the studio’s reception area the intercom buzzes and Charlene, the perpetually bored receptionist, answers Stiles’ request to enter the building. After giving him the floor and office number, she buzzes through to Ms. Blake’s desk to let them know that a Mr. Stilinski has arrived to see Mr. Paxter.

Derek of course, behaves like the perfectly respectable adult that he is; by proceeding to run around like a chicken with its head cut off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my _god Stiles is here_!” He squeals, scurrying towards Isaac. “Quick guys get ready Stiles is _fucking here_!” and in his excitement, Derek randomly hands Isaac the indigo desk lamp that was previously on the coffee table.

Isaac immediately takes the lamp, looking determined, and then looks wildly confused when he actually looks at what Derek has handed him. Isaac throws a questioning eyebrow raise at Ms. Blake and gestures to the lamp with his free hand like _what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?_

Ms. Blake shrugs her slim shoulders, “Thanks Charlene, send him in when he gets here.” She sighs. “Derek, honey, you need to calm down or you’ll have a heart attack.”

Derek wheezes incoherently.

Stiles, of course, chooses this exact moment to enter the room. The first thing he sees is; Ms. Blake, calmly sitting at her desk; Isaac, standing confused with a lamp in his hands; and Derek, frozen with a look of absolute shock in his corner of fear.

“Uhh,” Understandably, Stiles is the first on to gather his wits. “Hey Isaac! When is Paxter getting here I thought- Oh! Derek!” Stiles beams at Derek. “Dude I didn’t know you _worked_ here!”

“I just- well I- We just thought-“

Ms. Blake takes pity on Derek’s poor, overly stimulated mind, and answers for him. “Derek is here because I need to look over this draft of his.”

“Oh, so _you’re_ his editor… yeah he was saying stuff about how much of a grammatical ballbuster you are.” He grins shamelessly at Derek.

Ms. Blake pauses in her work to glare daggers at Derek in the corner, but Isaac simply derails the fight before it can begin with a well timed, “So Stiles, I thought you were here to see Paxter?”

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE RIGHT!” Stiles screeches, his arms pinwheeling around his head. “Is he here? Where is he? Did he have to leave for a grand opening? A hot date?”

Isaac chuckles, “Nah, his only hot date is right here with us.”

“… So where is he?”

“Stiles,” Isaac coughs delicately. “It is my pleasure to introduce Alpha Paxter, otherwise known as Derek Hale.” He gestures to Derek’s incoherent form.

Stiles looks over at Derek incomprehensively, as if waiting for the punchline. But when nothing is forthcoming, he squeaks, and then turns a brilliant shade of fuchsia.

“Oh my _god_ ,” He moans, horrified. “I’ve sworn at you, I’ve weirded you out, you’ve seen my friends naked in bed- “ A mortified cough from Isaac. “I’ve even seen what _porn_ you like!?” An awkward hiccup from Derek.

Derek’s face falls, and he wishes from the bottom of his heart that he hadn’t agreed to this stupid meeting. It’s obviously not going well and it looks like Stiles is so disappointed by the real deal of his favourite author when-

“How the _hell_ did I get so lucky?” and then Stiles’ wiry arms are wrapping themselves securely around Derek’s shoulders in a bone-crushing hug. “Seriously? I’ve been _this_ close to my all-time favourite author and I didn’t even know!”

Derek, shocked at the sudden burst of affection, automatically brings up his arms to hold Stiles gently against him in a hug. Isaac and Ms. Blake grin ecstatically at Stiles’ impression of an octopus and they fist bump victoriously.

“Okay kids, you guys have a fun evening.” Ms. Blake gets up from her desk, shuffling papers into order. “I’m going to go home and have a nice glass of wine away from you weirdos.” And with that, she struts out of the office.

“Uh,” Isaac begins, keenly feeling like the third wheel. “Well now that introductions have been made, I’m gonna head out. Scott and Allison are waiting for me at the diner on Fifth Street. See ya ‘round!” And swiftly vanishes out the door.

Derek is still staring at Isaac’s retreating form when he feels Stiles pull away gently, and then he makes the mistake of glancing down into Stiles’ eyes. Which are remarkably close to his own. _Holy dear sweet baby Jesus he has pretty eyes_ , gushes Derek’s inner hormonal teenager. Which brings them to the present situation: Derek’s hands gently holding Stiles by the hips with Stiles’ arms wrapped loosely around Derek’s neck.

“Soooooo…” Stiles trails off. “You’ve seen me lose my shit via fanboying and I know what porn you like. Do we even have any boundaries anymore?”

Well. No time like the present, “You don’t know awkward until you watch a porn video that has an actor who looks identical to your crush, and then having to bring said computer to said crush to fix it.” Derek looks up at the ceiling, praying that Stiles won’t slap him. He doesn’t, what Stiles does do however, is bury his face in crook of Derek’s neck while he laughs so hard he snorts like a piglet.

“Well,” Stiles’ amber eyes narrow, mischief and seduction bleeding into them. “You don’t know hot until your crush brings you a computer to fix that’s crashed because of a porn related virus.” A sultry smirk. “Especially from porn that has your own look-a-like in it.”

Derek feels the air in the room grow close, the atmosphere becoming dense and moist between them, and feels his breathing deepen. He can feel the sweat on his palms, the tension between his shoulder blades where Stiles is tracing circles into his skin, and the sweet air in the scant inches between their lips. Stiles lets his eyes trace from Derek’s eyes, along his cheekbones, to finally rest on his lips, and then he deliberately hooks slides his hands down to hook a finger into Derek’s belt loops.

“Although I have to admit,” Stiles pulls gently, leading Derek towards Ms. Blake’s desk. “It might be just a bit _hard_ ,” Derek suddenly finds their positions flipped, his ass resting against the edge of the desk. “To bend you over the desk to fuck you open.” Stiles picks the author up, places him on the desk, and moves to stand between Derek’s legs. Derek groans loudly, his head falling back. Stiles licks his lips, watching the gorgeous line of Derek’s throat stretch, sliding his hands along Derek’s thighs to feel the thick muscles clench and move.  Deciding to play along, the author sprawls on his back, drags Stiles closer to the desk, and spreads his legs wider to accommodate the hardening length of the man in front of him.

“Well then,” Derek drawls. “You’d better run a full systems diagnostic.” He determinedly begins undoing Stiles’ belt. “You know, just to make sure all my parts are working properly.”

Stiles releases a breathy sigh, “I guess I’ll just have to take you apart,” his belt buckle jingles as it falls to the ground amongst his pants and boxers. “Piece,” He pops Derek’s pants open. “By piece,” Stiles’ hand reaches in to grasp Derek’s cock.

 

Much later, once they’re both sweaty and sated and lying tangled on the office floor, Derek gets a text from Ms. Blake:

IF YOU GUYS GET COME OR LUBE ON ANY OF MY EDITED DRAFTS I’M GOING TO KILL YOU

Stiles snatches his phone and types out a response before Derek can object.

TOO LATE xoxoxoxo -STILES

“Well. I’m dead.”

“Oh don’t you worry your pretty little head about it babe!” Stiles runs his fingers through Derek’s sex-mussed hair. “I am vengeance,” a kiss to Derek’s temple. “I am the night!”

The moment is ruined when Derek cackles right in Stiles’ face, but the blinding smile he receives lights up the darkest corners of the studio.

“My beautiful Tech Knight in dorky armor.”


End file.
